It was as if the Devil himself had raped and defiled her mother. "You want him?" "Please!" said Ruth. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. "Can't I settle this business, Captain," muttered Blueskin, drawing a pistol. Before he could make the thrust, however, he was seized behind by Ireton, who flung himself upon him.
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